by Meg Muldoon
Needless to say, it hadn’t been the kind of dream wedding all brides hope for.
But that was okay.
Because on the day of her wedding, Tiana looked happier than I had ever seen her in the years she’d worked at the pie shop. She looked more beautiful, too, and simply radiated joy.
Tobias looked beside himself with elation, too. All trace of the profound sadness he’d felt in the weeks after Tiana had left him had vanished.
And in the end, that was all that counted. Not fancy wedding dresses, big cakes, and expensive champagne.
I started whistling and clapping, watching as Tobias, who was looking handsome in his dark brown suit and tie, placed a hand over Tiana’s. Together, they cut into the two-tiered peanut butter banana pie. Everyone around me started whistling and clapping, too, filling the pie shop with sounds of happiness and delight.
It wasn’t the reception Tiana had dreamed of, either – here in the pie shop. But you wouldn’t know that by the way she was gazing into Tobias’s eyes, her look full of love and admiration as they ate the first pie slice of their new life together.
I felt my eyes grow damp, watching them reach this big moment.
I came close to making a scene right then and there, but I fought back the tears. I couldn’t lose it just yet. As Tiana’s maid of honor, I had one last duty to complete.
I went over to the speaker system and plugged my smart phone in. Then I scrolled down to the song that Tiana had requested for their first dance: Dean Martin’s “Return to Me.” A classic that seemed more than fitting for the couple.
Though Tobias had been hurt by Tiana’s actions, she’d been lucky. The love of her life had a heart as big as the moon, and when she told him what had happened and why she had done the things she’d done, Tobias had forgiven her without hesitation. In his vows, he told her that he loved her, and as long as she still loved him, it was all that mattered.
She did. And it was.
I cleared my throat, getting the small gathering’s attention.
“Now, if everybody would turn their attention to the bride and groom, it’s that time of the evening for the couples’ first dance.”
I went over to the light switch and dimmed them while Kara lit a few candles that we had set out earlier as part of the decorations. I hit play on my phone, and a moment later, Dino was filling the dining room up with his smooth crooning.
The newlyweds swayed together in the middle of the room. Tobias held his new wife, gazing down at her with such an expression of love, it lit the whole space up.
I had no doubt that their new life together would be lovely and full of magic. And they would deserve every bit of it.
As I gazed past the happy couple and glanced around the small gathering of friends and family, I noticed that someone else looked a little choked up by the whole thing, too. Someone I wouldn’t have expected to see such emotion from.
Wes Dulany.
He was watching them, a sorrow of sorts in his eyes. But there was also something else there I hadn’t seen since his ordeal. Something like determination. Like he’d suddenly come to a decision about something.
When the song came to an end, Tiana stood on her tiptoes and gave her new husband a kiss. Everyone clapped and cheered. And when another more up-beat Dean Martin song came on, and the rest of the small gathering took it as a cue to join in on the dancing, I saw Wes quietly slip away. As quiet as a man with a broken leg and crutches could, anyway.
“Hey, where are you headed?” Daniel said after him.
Wes turned around for a split second.
He gazed at the two of us. And then a strange, funny little smile came across his face.
“I still love her,” he said. “And if she still loves me, then that really is all that matters.”
We watched as he left the pie shop – still hobbling with his broken leg. But a man who was clearly on a mission.
I let out a content sigh.
He and Angie had a long road ahead of them. Most couples didn’t come back from what they’d been through.
But maybe – just maybe – in the end, love really was enough.
And maybe now, Wes understood the real moral of the Christmas Flynn story.
We watched him through the shiny glass of the new front window until he disappeared down the street in the late afternoon October haze. After that, Daniel turned toward me. He took off his cowboy hat, holding it to his chest. He held out his other hand.
“Might I have this dance, Mrs. Brightman?”
I grinned.
He didn’t even have to ask these days. But I liked that he did.
Chapter 68
We sat on the back deck of the pie shop, watching the low autumn sun cast a soft butterscotch-colored glow across the landscape.
Daniel finished off the slice of Peach Blueberry Pie I’d made especially for him earlier that day, then leaned forward in his chair, dividing the last of Tiana and Tobias’s wedding champagne between our two flutes.
The reception had lasted several more hours, and went a ways to proving that all you needed for a great wedding reception was some tasty pie, a little champagne, good company, and two people who were truly in love.
“Is it me, or has Warren’s dancing gotten worse over the years?”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth and shook my head disapprovingly at my husband.
I supposed some things just wouldn’t ever change.
“How dare you, Daniel Brightman,” I said. “Criticizing a helpless old man like that.”
Daniel grinned mischievously.
“I wasn’t criticizing,” he said. “And you know as well as I do that he’s about the farthest thing from being a helpless old man.”
I smiled, looking off into the distance.
Though his dancing hadn’t worsened any, Daniel did have a point. Warren had had himself quite the jolly night of merriment and drink. He was as happy for Tiana and Tobias as any of us. But the other reason the old man was on cloud nine had something to do with the article that had come out in Craft Brew Magazine recently. After meeting Warren and taking a tour of Geronimo Brewing, Samuel Abernathy had scrapped the previous piece he was working on, and focused his new article solely on Warren and the brewery. An 80-plus-year-old professional brewer was not something you saw every day, and it was an engaging human interest story to say the least. The article spoke glowingly of Warren, Aileen, and Geronimo Brewing Co. Since it came out, the brewery was getting non-stop calls from people asking about how they could get Warren and Aileen’s beer in their own towns. Additionally, Warren was getting lots of interest from national reporters wanting to write their own story about the old man and the passion he’d found for brewing in his eighth decade.
Warren had even gotten a call from a Hollywood agent who wanted to represent him, if you could believe that.
Needless to say, my grandfather had been in a near-constant state of celebration since. And it showed out on the dance floor with his wild and risky moves. Many of which I had to close my eyes at, afraid he’d do something like throw out a hip or crack a rib.
“Well, I’m glad at least that the old man is getting his dues,” Daniel said, seemingly reading my mind. “I can’t think of any old-timer who deserves this recognition more.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on an empty one across from him. He loosened his tie some.
“So, Mrs. Brightman,” he said, shooting me a sideways glance. “What are you gonna do now that all the children have gone off and gotten married?”
I chuckled.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I was thinking of maybe taking a little trip to Ireland in the winter.”
His eyes brightened.
“So that’s your choice? Ireland?”
I nodded, my cheeks glowing.
Over the weekend, I’d finally sat down and done some research about the different countries in Europe to visit. I’d considered doing a multi-country tour, bu
t in the end, had settled for focusing on just one. Having never been to Europe before, Ireland sounded like a great place to start. Like many Americans, both Daniel and I had an Irish background in our families. It seemed only fitting. Plus, for an outdoorsy kind of gal like me, The Emerald Isle seemed to promise plenty of vistas and beautiful surroundings.
“I didn’t want to say anything,” Daniel said. “But I was hoping you’d choose Ireland.”
“You were?” I said, surprised.
He nodded.
“Jared and I actually talked about going once back when we were kids,” he said. “You’ve seen all those records by The Pogues and Stiff Little Fingers in his album collection, haven’t you? He was really proud of our Irish ancestry.”
Daniel smiled a little bit at the memory.
I reached for his hand, squeezing it.
“So we’re in agreement?” I asked.
“I’ll look into buying plane tickets first thing tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait,” I said.
I let out a happy sigh, looking off into the woods, watching the butterscotch color fade as the first fingers of dusk began to take hold of the sky.
But the giddy elation didn’t last long. Inexplicably, I felt a strange, dark cloud pass over me. It seemingly came out of nowhere, and put a damper on the excitement of the moment.
That old pain flared up again abruptly.
I didn’t know why, but I suddenly thought about my mom. About the fact that she’d died so young and had never gotten a chance to go on a trip like this to Europe. That she’d never gotten a chance to do the things she wanted to do with her life. There were so many good things in this beautiful world that she’d missed out on.
The same could be said for Daniel’s brother, Jared. For Tom Bullock’s wife, too. All of those who died too young. The life experiences and memories and moments that they missed out on all piled up in a mountain of grief.
“What are you thinking there?” Daniel said, noticing the abrupt change in my mood.
I shrugged.
It seemed silly, I knew. It seemed like those thoughts should have no place in this moment. But somehow, they did.
“It’s just… it all goes so fast, you know? I guess I was thinking about our loved ones who aren’t here anymore. And I was thinking about all the things they missed out on. Like trips to Ireland, and weddings, and tossing a line in a lake, and… I don’t know. Sitting on the back deck of a pie shop, watching a sunset and sipping champagne. It just… sometimes it scares me when I think about how this is all going to be gone one day, Daniel. And these moments right now will just be memories. Maybe they won’t even be remembered at all.”
I trailed off.
Then I shook my head.
I was being a real Debbie Downer for no good reason. Here my husband was taking me to Ireland, and I was getting all sad and depressed.
“I don’t know… I have no clue what I’m trying to say. Sorry.”
He set his glass down and turned in his chair toward me. He held my hand between his, stroking it gently with this thumb.
“Don’t be,” he said, meeting my eyes. “I think I know what you mean. I’ve had a few of those thoughts, too, since all of this Christmas Flynn business.”
He looked out into the woods for a long moment, watching as the sun disappeared completely beneath the horizon.
“There’s nothing you can do about time, though,” he said, clutching my hand. “It’s a force beyond anybody’s control. No matter what you do, these good moments right now are gonna become memories. And then one day, they’ll just be gone. Like dust down a highway. Disappearing completely.”
He let out a short sigh.
“But how I see it, the only way to beat time is to make sure you’re living life exactly how you want to live it – doing the things you want to do, seeing the things you want to see, loving the people you want to love.”
He smiled.
“And I don’t want to jinx things, darlin,’” he said. “But with a life like mine, and with a girl like you by my side, I think I very well may have beat time.”
He pulled my hand up and kissed it softly.
I smiled, my insides feeling like a gooey lava cake pulled fresh from the oven.
Daniel Brightman was a charming devil, all right.
He stood up, then helped me up, too. He wrapped his arms around my waist.
“We’re fortunate, Cin,” he said. “A guy like Wes had to pay a lot to learn what real treasure is. But we’ve known it all along, haven’t we?”
I gazed up at him, the last light of the day falling softly on his features. Studying the familiar lines of his face. Those green eyes of his catching the dying light. Suddenly, I felt so whole, so right, and so happy to have this man by my side in this journey, too, that my throat tightened with emotion.
And for some reason, the image of those two young brothers in Meadow Plaza, walking with that dog that looked a lot like Huckleberry, popped into my head.
And something clicked inside of me. Something that hadn’t ever before.
Christmas Flynn’s words about love being the only thing worth anything in this bitter world echoed in my head as I gazed up at Daniel.
I came to an important decision, then.
It wasn’t going to happen today. And it probably still wouldn’t happen for a while yet. Not until everything became a little more routine and steady.
But soon. One day very soon, we would take that big step.
It was time.
I suddenly felt overcome with passion. I leaned in, wrapping my arms around him and planting a sweet, beautiful, tender and smoldering kiss on Daniel’s lips. One that if being judged as an Olympic sport, would have received 10’s across the board.
He pulled away after a second, looking a little flabbergasted by the unexpected action.
“What was that for?” he asked.
I smiled to myself.
“No reason,” I said. “No reason at all.”
I’d tell him soon enough. But for the moment, I’d just as soon enjoy the evening.
A cool and frosty October gust blew through the forest, and I was glad to have his strong, warm arms around me for the cold months ahead.
“Time to bust this joint?” Daniel said with a smile.
I nodded, wholeheartedly.
He put an arm over my shoulder, and we walked down the steps, away from the cozy pie shop.
“C’mon, Cin,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Let’s take the long way home.”
The End
Did you enjoy this book? Please let others know by leaving a review on Amazon. Reviews are greatly appreciated by the author. Thank you in advance, dear reader!
For cozy contests, giveaways, and recipes, join Meg Muldoon on Facebook or visit her Blog.
To sign up for the Meg Muldoon new book alert mailing list, and to get Meg’s Cozy Corner newsletters, click here.
Look for these exciting books coming soon from Meg Muldoon!
The Silence of the Elves: A Holly Hopewell Cozy Mystery (Book 1)
Malarkey in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 10)
Corgis & Conspiracy: A Dog Town USA Cozy Mystery (Book 3)
Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 1)
Mayhem in Christmas River: A Christmas in July Cozy Mystery (Book 2)
Madness in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 3)
Malice in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 4)
Mischief in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 5)
Manic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 6)
Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 7)
Menace in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 8)
Roasted in Christmas River: A Thanksgiving Cozy Mystery Novella
Burned in Broken Hearts Junction: A Cozy Matchmaker Mystery (Book 1)
Busted in Broken Hearts Junction: A Coz
y Matchmaker Mystery (Book 2)
Mutts & Murder: A Dog Town USA Cozy Mystery (Book 1)
Bulldogs & Bullets: A Dog Town USA Cozy Mystery
About the Author
Amazon Bestselling Author Meg Muldoon loves writing cozy mysteries. A former small town news reporter, Meg has always had a special place in her heart for lost dogs, homeless cats, and feisty old locals. She enjoys bourbon bread pudding, red cowboy boots and craft glue guns.
Meg lives in Central Oregon with an Australian cattle dog named Huckleberry.
For more about Meg and her upcoming books, join her on Facebook or visit her Blog.
To sign up for the Meg Muldoon new book alert mailing list, and to get Meg’s Cozy Corner newsletters, click here.